Falcon in the Dive
by Fujin Masago
Summary: I think this is what would be called a song-fic. Based off the song 'Falcon in the Dive' from The Scarlet Pimpernel. That song just sounds to me like a survival-horror theme song, so I had to write a fanfic to it. Please r&r!


DISCLAMER: Everything belongs to their respective owners. The only thing in here that's mine, aside from the idea, is the character Samuel. 

The alarms blared deep within the corridors of the Umbrella Paris Facility.

Samuel Delmon, recently promoted to head of security, shook with rage.

There was only one person, one man who could have done this, and so cleanly, sweeping in and out of the building like a breeze, taking what he came for and getting out again without even being caught.

_Chris Redfield_.

The bane of Umbrella's existence.

He had a deep hatred for Umbrella, and the ability to bring them down, bit by bit, piece by piece.

If ever there was an important delivery of chemicals, you could count on Redfield to destroy it. 

His name was legend among the employees, his deeds infamous.

Samuel would be the one to bring him down. Redfield would not slip through _his_ fingers.

"Hunt for this man," he commanded his small army of troops, pointing at the picture of the face every employee had grown to know and hate. "Comb the city, every street, every grate. You–put a guard at every gate. Drag him out! Shout the moment that you find him" Squad A hurried off to carry out his orders. Another, different alarm flashed. Redfield had struck again.

"DAMN!!!" Samuel bellowed. He frowned and tried to control his rage. "Lock all the doors, lock up the city, track him down through this town, and be quick about it now--!"

Squad B vanished down the corridor, hoping they were the ones to catch him.

He sighed, and addressed a newly arriving soldier, donning the face mask that marked him as a special agent. "How the devil can I ever prevail, when I'm only a man? I can never be duped by that scurvilous phantom again!"

The soldier's eyes, the only visible part of his face, looked a bit confused and sympathetic.

"I wasn't born to walk on water," Samuel continued, making casual conversation about his deepest feelings with this soldier whose name he didn't even know, "I wasn't born to sack and slaughter. But, on my soul, I wasn't born to stoop to scorn, and knuckle under." He started down the hall, gesturing for the soldier to follow. 

_A man can learn to steal some thunder_

A man can learn to work some wonder

But when the god puts down, it's time

To rise and climb the sky 

He barely noticed the soldier anymore.

_And soon the moon will smolder_

And the winds will drive

Yes, a man grows older

But his soul remains alive

For those tremulous stars still glitter

I will survive!

Let my heart grow colder

And as bitter

As a falcon in the dive

There was a dream, a dying ember

There was a dream I don't remember

But I will resurrect that dream

The rivers stream, and hills grow steeper

For here in hell, where life gets cheaper

Oh, here in hell, the blood runs deeper

And when the final duel is near

I'll lift my spear and fly

Pitching into the sky and higher

And the strong will thrive

Yes, the weak will cower

While the fittest will survive

If we wait for the darkest hour

He'll be spring alive

Then, with claws of fire

We devour

Like a falcon in the dive

"I want to kill him."

"Who?" the soldier asked carefully.

"Redfield, idiot, who else?" Samuel roared.

"Oh." The soldier was oddly quiet. Not that he'd said much anyways.

"These are the days," Samuel continued his monologue, not even caring if the soldier would listen or not. "These are glory days of rage and the dream. And the dream of Paris owned preys on my bones–gnawing night and day and crawling through my brain and no, never kneel" Of course, by now, Samuel was pretty much just saying whatever came into his head, and couldn't really stop. "Never bend! Rend him to bits, fight! Oh, the beauty of the fight" 

The soldier was giving him and odd look.

Samuel inhaled deeply, calming himself. "I'm not a man to hunger for blood, but the spirit can cry to be younger and richer and fly"

_Pitching into the sky and higher_

And the strong will thrive

Yes, the weak will cower

While the fittest will survive

If we wait for the darkest hour

He'll be spring alive

Then, with claws of fire

We devour 

Like a falcon in the dive

Samuel turned down a passageway. The soldier made no move to follow him. Instead, as soon as Samuel was out of sight, the soldier bolted for the sewer entrance, to make his escape, privately thinking that it must be a job requirement for Umbrella–are you insane? Okay, then, you can be the president of Umbrella! —head researcher —whatever.

The sewer exit posed no problem for the soldier, and Chris Redfield pulled off his soldier mask and escaped into the night. 

AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is my first story up here, so please don't be too hard on me.


End file.
